The Food of Love
by EponinexEnjolras
Summary: What could be better on a cold morning in Sweden, than pancakes, music and understanding? R/C one-shot with both fluff and angst.


A/N: Here's a new R/C one-shot I wrote last year, but never bother posting till now. (I couldn't think of a good title, hence the reason I didn't post it. I wanted to name it "If Music be the Food of Love", but I later discovered that someone else had used that quote as a title for their story. So, not wanting to be a copycat, I used only half of the quote.) Anyway, this is based on Leroux with several elements of the ALW stage musical mixed in.

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Phantom, or it characters.

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Late one Saturday morning, Raoul rolled over unto his side and looked at the clock. Noticing that it was almost half past eleven, he knew that he and Christine would have to start the day sometime. He quietly rolled back over and kissed his wife's forehead. "Christine, love, it's time to get up." He said gently.

Christine gave a small moan and tried to pull the covers over her head. "But we just went to bed." She murmured sleepily. Raoul rested his weight on his left elbow and lifted up the covers with his other hand; looking at Christine.

"Darling, it's morning." Raoul chuckled softly.

Christine opened up one eye and grabbed the covers from Raoul. She then pulled them over her head and curled up into a ball, trying to retain the warmth of the sheets. Seeing that her back was turned to him, Raoul tried tapping her arm; hoping that she would at least look at him. But she remained under the covers, hiding from the bright morning light that came streaming through the window. Raoul thought of only one other thing at the moment that he could do to get his wife's attention. So he lifted up the covers once again and smoldered Christine's neck and shoulder with light, but passionate kisses. That, plus the blast of cold air that came under the sheets roused her. If she wasn't awake before, she certainly was now.

"You're not even awake five minutes and you're still stubborn as ever!" Raoul joked as Christine pretended to glare at him. She was just about to reply when Raoul brought his lips down to meet hers. Christine was so caught up in his kiss that she didn't notice that he was slowly pulling the sheets away from her. When she finally did notice, she found herself not caring.

_"Raoul's body is certainly a lot warmer than a pile of sheets." _She thought as she placed her arms around his neck; pulling him to her. Raoul's hand was slowly making its way down the curve of Christine's body, feeling the heat underneath her nightgown. He suddenly remembered that they really needed to get out of bed. He broke the kiss and said breathlessly; turning to look at the clock. "Christine, it's almost eleven-"

"Don't worry, we have all day." She replied with another kiss.

Christine turned Raoul over onto his back; laughing softly. She then lowered herself on top of him and rested her head against his chest. Raoul wrapped his arms around her; murmuring. "We really should get up now, Christine." Christine looked up at him. "Aww, do we have to?"

Raoul smiled down at her. "Yes, after all, it is after eleven-" A noise stopped him and he flushed a bit. Christine looked down. "Raoul, was...was that your stomach?" Raoul tried to shrug it off. "It's nothing, really..." He began, but Christine stopped him. "Oh, no wonder you wanted to get up! You must be starving!" Raoul tried to protest, but another rumble escaped from his stomach. Christine tried to stifle a giggle before sitting up and pushing the covers aside.

"Come on." She said; getting out of bed. "I'll make you the biggest and the warmest breakfast you ever had!" She quickly flew out of the room. Raoul shook his head and grinned. He was glad to see some of Christine's child-like enthusiasm return after the tragedy that had happened in Paris a year and a half ago. He reflected on their past year together as he too, got out of bed and closed the bedroom door. He dressed quickly, because despite the fact that it was only early November, the wintery, northern wind was bitterly cold at times. Christine had gotten used to the cold after only a week, which wasn't surprising considering she grew up in Sweden. For Raoul, it took longer for him to adjust to the harsher weather. _"But at least the chill is on the outside."_ He thought as he slipped on a fresh shirt; suddenly remembering the chilling fear he felt in his heart despite the tormenting heat of the chamber in which he and the Persian were locked in. He would've thought about it longer, but a sweet voice penetrated his thoughts and caused him to look up; his hands still poised on the second-to-top button of his shirt; listening.

_"Bittida en morgon innan solen upprann _

_Innan foglarna började sjunga _

_Bergatrollet friade till fager ungersven _

_Hon hade en falskeliger tunga..."_

Raoul recognized the song immediately. Christine's father had sung that old Swedish ballad to him and Christine when they were children. He began to remember their light and carefree childhood as the song continued.

_"Herr Mannelig herr Mannelig trolofven i mig _

_För det jag bjuder så gerna _

_I kunnen väl svara endast ja eller nej _

_Om i viljen eller ej..."_

_"That can't be Christine...can it? She hasn't sung a note since the night of Don Juan." _He thought as he walked over to the door and quietly opened it. He stood at the top of the stairway, looking over the large room below before his eyes fell on the doorway in the northeast corner of the room where the kitchen was located and where the singing came from.

He softly made his way down the stairs and across to the kitchen; stopping when he came to the threshold of the room. He didn't say anything, but he couldn't suppress the look of surprise on his face when he saw that the singer was indeed Christine. He had thought about saying something, but he didn't want to ruin the moment, so he just stood there leaning against the door frame and listened as she sang.

_"Eder vill jag gifva de gångare tolf _

_Som gå uti rosendelunde..."_

Raoul was entranced by the sweet sounds that came from her throat. He had loved hearing her sing in the operas in Paris, but hearing her sing in her original tongue sounded so much more natural and beautiful. _"Only she_ _could make such a tragic tale sound so sweet." _He thought as Christine sung of a tale of a deceitful troll who believed that she would become human if she married a man, namely Sir Mannelig, but is refused by him despite that she showered him with gifts.

_"Aldrig har det varit någon sadel uppå dem _

_Ej heller betsel uti munnen..."_

When she came again to the chorus, Raoul couldn't help but sing along; his light baritone mixing with her angelic soprano.

_"Herr Mannelig herr Mannelig trolofven i mig _

_För det jag bjuder så gerna _

_I kunnen väl svara endast ja eller nej _

_Om i viljen eller ej..."_

Christine turned around as they finished the last lyric together. Neither of them said anything until Raoul spoke up. "It's good to hear you sing again." He said softly. Christine smiled a little.

"I have missed doing it so. But before now, I was...I was afraid too." She looked down at the floor. "I thought I would still hear Erik singing with me. I also felt...ashamed to use the gift he gave me...especially now, when he cannot hear it." She said softly. Raoul nodded; finding it surprisingly easy to understand where she was coming from.

"I think...that maybe he can hear you..." Raoul spoke slowly and carefully. Christine looked up at him.

"What do you mean?" She asked; sounding like a small child seeking comfort and guidance.

"Well..." He began, trying to think of the right way to explain what he meant. "If your father, may he rest in peace, can hear your songs and prayers, then if Erik has been granted salvation, then I don't see why he couldn't be able to hear you as well." Raoul bit his lip, hoping that Christine would understand and maybe take comfort in his words. She nodded slowly.

"Maybe you're right." She said. She went silent for a moment before asking; "Do you really think so?"

"If you want him to, I'm sure he can." Raoul said; believing his own words.

"I do hope he has found peace." She said. Raoul simply nodded for a few brief moments, before his eyes fell on the stove behind Christine.

"Christine! The food!" He exclaimed.

Forgetting her brief moment of grief; she turned back to stove and quickly moved the skillet from one burner to another. "Well, there goes the plattar." She sighed as she placed the burnt pancakes on a plate. Raoul grimaced as well, for he was hungry. "We have more batter, don't we?" He asked; walking over to the table. Christine nodded as she picked up a mixing bowl. "Yeah, but you'll have to wait a little longer."

Raoul grinned.

"I had to wait half of my life before finding the one woman I loved more than anything, so I'm sure I can abide not having breakfast for a little while long-" He began, but was once again cut off by his growling stomach. Christine laughed as Raoul rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

"Hand me the flour, won't you darling?" She asked; still giggling.

Raoul eyed the flour for a moment before turning his gaze back to Christine. She recognized the mischievous look in Raoul's eyes and she saw his hand reach into the bag.

"Raoul...what are you do-OH!" She gasped as a small handful of flour collided with her face. Raoul shrugged. "You asked me to hand you the flour." He said with a boyish grin. Christine quickly responded by throwing a handful of flour back at him, hitting him square in the nose. They both then poised their hands over the bag and waited to see who would throw the next handful. They remained that way for a few moments before Raoul took Christine's hand and pulled her to him; kissing her. Outside, a sole violin was playing the ballad Christine and Raoul were singing minutes before the flour fight. Raoul looked toward the window and smiled.

"Well...if music be the food of love, play on." He quoted before Christine pulled him in for another kiss.

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A/N: The song that Christine sings (Herr Mannelig) is a real Swedish song, look it up! It's really neat! Also, "plattar" is basically Swedish pancakes. Anyway, notes aside, I hope you liked that and please review if you did!


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